:: On love ::

ive been telling d gerls bout the interesting things i learnt from the novel 'on love'.
here's d excerpt n d most refreshing insight ive came across. :)


What was wrong with Chloe's shoes? Objectively speaking nothing [but when did one ever fall in love objectively?]. She had bought them one Saturday morning in a shop on the King's Road, ready for a party we were invited to that evening. I understood the blend of high-and-low-heeled shoe that the designer had tried to incorporate, the platform sole rising sharply up to a heel with the breadth of a flat shoe but as tall as a stiletto. Then there was the high, faintly rococo collar, decorated with a bow and stars and framed by a piece of chunky ribbon. The shoes were the height of fashion, they were well made, they were clean - yet they were precisely the kind of shoes I hated.

"Don't you just love them?" Chloe had asked rhetorically, full of the excitement of a new purchase. "I'm going to wear them every day, don't you think they are terrific?"
But though I loved her, the magic wand that might have transformed them into objects of desire remained impotent to perform its usual alchemy.
"I tell you, I could have bought the whole shop. They've got such great things there. You should have seen the boots they had."
I was shocked to see Chloe[with whom I had agreed on almost everything till then] fall into raptures over what I took to be at best a most unattractive pair of shoes. My idea of who Chloe was, my Aristophelian certaintyl of who she was, had not included this particular enthusiasm. Disturbed by the thought of what Chloe had in mind when she bought them, I asked myself, " How could she like both this kind of shoe and me?"

Chloe's choice of shoe was an uncomfortable reminder that she existed in her own right [beyond fusional fantasies], that her tastes were not always my own, and that however compatible we might be over certain things, compatibility did not extend indefinitely. It was a reminder that getting to know someone is not always the pleasant process that common sense makes it out to be, for just as one may strike on delightful similarities, one may also encounter threatening differences.

What did it really matter what Chloe's shoes were like? There were so many other wonderful sides to her, was it not rather spoiling the game to arrest my gaze on this one little detail? ....

to be continued...